Post by Carrie Schwab on Jun 20, 2018 21:51:45 GMT
When it was all said and done Abigail was pretty satisfied with herself. She stood up and slipped the thin fabric of a t-shirt back over her slender shoulders. She pulled on a pair of green pants and moved her hair to her other shoulder. "You're going to be just right for me buttercup." She said still fidgiting with her hair and casting a devilish wink at Carrie. She'd make the time in here go faster anyways. It was a good thing she didn't plan on being here much longer.
"I am?" Carrie said, anxious to see what her new place in the prison pecking order would be, pausing as she got up to grab some clothes set aside for her - they must've brought my stuff here earlier, she mused - putting them on and feeling quite contented with herself and her new station in life. "Get dressed. Yard time starts soon an I want to show off my new trophy," Abigail said to her, rolling her eyes as she spoke. Carrie rolled her eyes back at her in turn. "Yes, Abigail," she said quietly, slipping on the same style clothing as Abigail - albeit clothes tight for Carrie, but that didn't bother her as she knotted up her shirt in order to emphasize her....upper assets, you might say.
"Prisoners put on your power collars before your door will open." Seeing Abigail place her collar around her neck, Carrie did likewise, making sure it was in the right position even as Abigail reminded her of it, which caused Carrie to shake her head and roll her eyes towards her as they both looked at the camera to let them know they were ready to go. The door swung open and Abigail smiled. "Come on sweets. Let's go take mama's new lapdog for walkies." She winked at Carrie again.
"What, do I get a treat from you when we get back?" Carrie asked, winking back at Abigail as they walked out of their cell, Abigail a step ahead of her..then Abigail paused and reached inside one of her pockets, turning it inside out.. "You grab this. And you don't let go. As long as you hold this in the yard it means your my bitch. And no one fucks with what is mine. Got that?"
"Yes, Abigail," Carrie replied, taking hold of the pocket and gripping it as tightly as she could; this was going to be a whole new experience for Carrier but she couldn't wait to be put on display out in the yard by her new owner...
Post by Abigail Black on Jun 21, 2018 19:12:56 GMT
Walking along the cooridoor Abigail's fingers danced and nipped along the railing. She had a proud smirk on her face as she sauntered with her casual stroll. She could feel the other inmate's eyes on her. Whispers and murmers that Abigail has a new pocket pet. It's what they called her friends who clung to her pockets for her protection. She was bad and she knew it. She had a decidedly devilish touch of evil about her and she didn't act like a saint. She kept to herself mostly becasue she didn't want to bother with any of the bullshit, but the hierarchy was clear. She was at the top of the moutain around here.
Abigail slapped Carrie's hand indicating she wanted her to let go for a moment. She strolled over to a guard who was checking someone's cell... "Hey Arty." She said with a smirk. He turned. "Abigail. What do you want?" He said with a sigh. "Oh, don't be that way baby. We had some fun back in the day remember?" She said running a playful finger over his chest. It was always Arty she came too when she needed a favor. "How about a smoke Art?" She asked coyly.
"You know you can't have anything remotely flamable." He retorted dryly. "Oh, but i'm wearing my collar see!" She batted her eyes and stood on her tipy toes pushing the collar into his face so he could admire her chains. "Okay, look... I have always liked you Abby. You're a hell of a woman, but truth is i'm not staying at this job much longer. Got a better offer. How about we have a roll around for old times sake and I'll keep the door open for you when i walk out of here for good." Abby's playful shit ceased. She grew serious. "You'd help me escape this rock? How?" Her voice was barely a whisper. He smirked.
"Well, you can fly can't you? I'll deactivate your collar and thorugh a series of clumsy mistakes a few random doors will be left unlocked.... All you gotta do is give me one last taste of that fire." He said stepping closer and pulling on a strand of her hair. Abby pushed his hand away gently.... Her eyes lit up with a smile. "Tell you what Art... I could take you down memory lane and we could have our fun.... But how about a taste of something new?" Her eyes rolled back to Carrie who she had left standing a few feet out of earshot. "She's my new pet. And she's a fiesty pup....
Still tries to piddle on the carpet but i'm slolwy breaking her. She's yours to do whatever you want with for as many times as you want.... IF you get me the fuck out of here... And spring my pet too. We both go or no deal...." He thought about it for several minutes. Abigail danced on the edge of a knife waiting for him to say something. Finally he agreed. Abigail snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet telling Carrie to move her ass!
When she came up closer Abby smiled. "You and this nice man are going to spend the evening together. If you're a good girl and do everything he says.... Mama will give you a treat. She'll take you for walkies off this god damn rock." Her voice was cold and emotionless, but she was smiling thinking about her and Carrie on the outside. She'd have to look up the old gang. They'd want to know she was free.
Walking along the corridor Abigail's fingers danced and nipped along the railing. She had a proud smirk on her face as she sauntered with her casual stroll. She could feel the other inmate's eyes on her...and on Carrie as well; dressed in a knotted-up shirt and shorts at least one size too small, Carrie looked like someone on the stroll and she could feel all the other inmates' eyes on her, the female whispers of 'someone actually broke Carrie? Her?!?' loud and thick but it didn't bother her.
Suddenly, she felt her hand being slapped away; stepping back a little bit, Carrie propped herself up on a nearby wall as Abigail talked to one of the guards; it was Arty, one of the "friendlier" guards at Blue Ridge...of course, Carrie mused, friendly was a relative term; it was no secret that if you "caught" the eye of one of the guards, there was no telling the devilish things they'd force you to do. She'd heard the rumors, heard about the depravity but never had to worry about...then what the hell is Abigail--
"Tell you what Art... I could take you down memory lane and we could have our fun.... But how about a taste of something new?" Her eyes rolled back to Carrie who she had left standing a few feet out of earshot. "She's my new pet. And she's a fiesty pup.... Still tries to piddle on the carpet but i'm slolwy breaking her. She's yours to do whatever you want with for as many times as you want.... IF you get me the fuck out of here... And spring my pet too. We both go or no deal...." He thought about it for several minutes. Abigail danced on the edge of a knife waiting for him to say something. Finally he agreed. Abigail snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet telling Carrie to move her ass!
Suddenly, Carrie heard Abigail snapping her fingers and sauntered over, shaking her hips and holding her thumbs in the shorts' pockets as if she were just walking down the road instead of over towards a prison guard. "You and this nice man are going to spend the evening together. If you're a good girl and do everything he says.... Mama will give you a treat. She'll take you for walkies off this god damn rock."
"Oh yeah?" Carrie said, giving the guard a long once-over; to Carrie's eye, he looked strong and muscular and if he looked it, maybe... "So you and I are going to get know each other a little better?" Carrie said, running her tongue slowly over her lips as she looked at him. "Alright...you think you can handle me, big man?" she said, winking back at Abigail as they stood there...
Post by Joe MacMillan on Jun 24, 2018 15:33:05 GMT
"Okay, you seem to be in alright shape," Dr. MacMillan said to the inmate sitting on the exam table as he set his stethoscope back around his neck, "so I'm going to go ahead and take you off of medical status and have you go back to a regular work detail, alright?" making a few notes on their chart before stepping back to let the guards escort her out of the prison infirmary.
Shaking his head, he thought, I will be so glad when they finally-- Suddenly a rush of people came inside the infirmary - several guards pushing a stretcher, an orderly and nurse rushing alongside, with what looked like a crispy critter writhing in utter agony on the stretcher. "Jesus, what the fuck happened here?" he asked one of the guards.
"She caught the wrong end of a flame, Doc," the guard said, shrugging his shoulders in a kind of "what more do you want kind of thing?" manner of speaking. Quickly examining the inmate - who looked and screamed like she'd met the wrong end of another mutant, and Dr. MacMillan knew damn well which mutant it was - he ascertained two things, (1) without proper burn care treatment, the inmate wouldn't survive very long and (2) USP Blue Ridge didn't have the treatment facilities to do so.
Calling out several orders to the infirmary staff, Dr. MacMillan walked over to his desk and picked up the phone, dialing a number which, seconds later put him through to one of the assistant wardens. "Go ahead."
"I have a burn patient here, 60-70" 2nd and 3rd degrees burns on her, that I need to have transferred to an outside facility. Closest one to here is East Tennessee Medical in Johnson City," scrolling through a list of BOP-approved outside medical facilities. "Do I have permission to send the inmate patient out?"
"Yeah, go ahead," came the reply; moments later, he hung up the phone and whistled to the senior nurse. "Prep her for departure to ETMC," pausing as he pointed to a guard and said, "make sure she has an escort with her at all times, okay?"
Ms. Chase, my job is not to torture these poor benighted souls...my job is to make sure they're alive before AND after their visits to your torture chambers; who do you take me for, Adolf Eichmann? -- Dr. Joe MacMillan, GADEM
The walls were tight and confining. Samantha pressed her slender body against the wall and quietly sobbed. She had been in solitary confinement for days. And usually the buzzing life of everyone else's emotions were so loud that she could hardly think...
Now she just wanted some human contact. She had a power collar around her neck that turned off her abilities and she was so utterly terribly alone. Samantha couldn't, she wouldn't give up. She had been here for so long she had lost track. The days seemed to blur together in this numb hell.
Her eyes were wet and puffy with Tears as she laid in the corner of her small cell. She tried to close her eyes and think about Tamara. Maybe that thought, that crystalline image would give her some semblance of hope.
But all it did was miss the touch and pull of her soft emotions flowing through her mind all the more. Samantha wasn't as strong as some of the mutants in here. In fact, she wasn't sure she was going to make it here. Or how much longer she would survive.
Besides working in the prison's food services area, one of the other jobs Sarah Lyell had was delivering carts stacked full of food trays to inmates located over in the solitary wing of USP Blue Ridge. It wasn't a glamorous job by any stretch of the imagination; some of the inmates in solitary were there for disciplinary reasons while others were there because they were pretty much drugged out of their gourd....those inmates Sarah hated because it was those inmates who, whenever Sarah slid open the food port in their door (the food ports were opened by a single guard at the end of the solitary wing) to deliver their meals, some of the inmates would either try to spit on her or throw some of the most disgusting things one can imagine an inmate can create (stuff frankly too gross to mention here).
Others - like Samantha Archer - were peaceful and Sarah appreciated that; it also gave her the opportunity to write up a message for Samantha, to help keep her spirits up....so Sarah made her way down the cellblock, delivering meals to the inmates one cell at a time. When she got to Samantha's solitary cell, Sarah took her message of encouragement out and slipped it into the covered tray (the meal being delivered was turkey pot pie, mixed vegetables and oatmeal cookies w/a paper-pint bottle of milk) before sliding it through the open food port and into Samantha's hands.
Watching the guard walk away for a bit, Sarah leaned down and whispered to her, "Stay strong, Samantha; the winds are blowing, okay? Just stay strong," leaning back up and moving along before the guard became suspicious. Whistling one of her favorite tunes, "Farmer in the Dell", Sarah continued on, hoping the words of encouragement and the message she'd delivered to Samantha would keep her going long enough for whatever plans Sarah had of busting out of this godforsaken place to come to fruition...
“Redemption is something you have to fight for in a very personal, down-dirty way. Some of us lose that, some stray from that, and some regain it.” ― Joss Whedon
Samantha woke up strapped to a table. She didn't even remember the dart that was shot into her cold dark room. She didn't remember the drugs coursing through her body to the point where she blacked out. Now she woke up more frightened than she ever had been in this place. She was staring at a lab coated doctor with a bored expression on her tired face.
"What do you people want?" The doctor didn't reply. She only looked at her instruments on the table. A voice flooded the room. "Subject T768B9 Emotional Empathy mutation. Disection process beginning at 0700 hours." Samantha's eyes went wide with fear. Did he say disection? She tried to struggle against the ties that held her but there was a mask placed over her mouth and her panicked breathes drew in large amounts of anesteasia.
She breathed herself asleep and the doctor picked up a scapel. Moving towards her she dug it into Samantha's chest and opened her chest cavity. She began pulling back flaps and folds of skin until her chest was wide open. A hammer to break open the ribs and rib cage revealed all the vital orgens. It was these they were going to test. Wanting to see if one of her orgens secreted extra chemicals that made her ability possible.
Samantha Archer's life was sacrificed for the sake of curiosity and nothing more. She died not feeling athing, though her head tilted towards the floor and her hair hung in her face. The doctors in the room began removing her organs and placing them in biomedical lockboxes.
